


Labor and Delivery: The Complications Associated with Hosting Saturday Night Live

by elizabethvaughan



Series: Braindead Alternate Universe (From Season Two on) [7]
Category: BrainDead (TV)
Genre: Also please know this "series" we keep posting has no official order yet, Childbirth, F/M, Family Drama, M/M, Saturday Night Live - Freeform, Washington D.C., details about childbirth warning, gore warning???, real people whom I will not tag, snl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 06:36:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10156361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elizabethvaughan/pseuds/elizabethvaughan
Summary: Luke and Gareth may be opposites in every sense of the word, but when Laurel's in trouble, they always seem to agree.





	

Gareth Ritter and Luke Healy were not known for frequently agreeing on things. Besides the obvious political differences, the two men managed to have different opinions on just about anything. However, there was one thing they could easily agree on and call it a day: how much they both cared about Laurel. If there was nothing else that could ever unite them, that would be it. Unfortunately, this was put to the test one summer day.  
July 12, 2018 was the day the world almost stopped spinning for Gareth and Luke. If everything had gone to plan, it probably would have been a great day. Not only had Luke accepted NBC’s offer to host Saturday Night Live, but Laurel’s due date was in the next week. Looking back, it did turn out to be one of the best days of their lives, but in the moment, it was arguably the very, very worst.  
\---  
“You’re sure you don’t need me there with you sis?” Luke questioned Laurel, beginning the walk from his hotel to 30 Rock. She was close to due, and he was worried about his little sister.  
“Luke, you’re literally about to go host, you can’t cancel even if you wanted to.” Laurel laughed into the phone. She understood his concern, but she honestly was fine. She had Gareth, Rochelle, and her mom to take care of her. She was more concerned about the little person she was about to bring into the world. Not that she had been planned. She never even wanted kids, but when she found out, she just kind of went with it. It didn’t even feel real yet. Like sure, her stomach had grown a lot, but a kid? Whatever doubt she still had was being cheerfully drowned out by the overt enthusiasm from everyone around her. Especially Gareth.  
“Laurel, you’re getting ready to push a body out of you. I think you have it worse in the “can’t bail now” area. Besides, it’s just TV.”  
“It’s not just TV. If it were you would have no problem. It’s SNL. You know the “L” stands for “live”, right? You can’t leave them in the dust hours before it broadcasts.”  
“If you need anything I will.” Laurel laughed on her end.  
“Believe me, Gareth will be doing all my dirty work in exchange for this kid.”  
“That kid is your daughter too, remember?”  
“No Luke, I don’t remember. Please, do tell me more about how this happened.” Laurel deadpanned, dripping in sarcasm.  
“Ha ha sis, I get it. But really, don’t hesitate to call, okay?” Luke replied, turning the corner into Rockefeller Center.  
He could practically hear her rolling her eyes through the phone. “Okay Luke. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”  
\---  
As it turned out, everything was not, in fact, fine. Luke walked onto the stage after the cold open, and the crowd cheered wildly. It’s not every day a senator was asked to host, but not every senator had been involved in stopping brain eating bugs from demolishing the government or leading the Democratic Dream Team, as the media called it. After Trump was elected in 2016, he and Laurel set off assembling the best of the best in their party. From Sanders to Warren, the team was able to block unreasonable bills and defend their citizens’ beliefs. Of course, his brother in law was responsible for getting any reasonable Republican left in politics to realize they needed to get their acts together and update some views, otherwise their party was going to end very soon. But that was another story for another day.  
“Good evening everyone!” Luke began after silencing the room. “And welcome to Saturday Night Live! I’m Luke Healy, as some of you, a few of you, may know. But for those who don’t know, well I’m a democratic senator from Maryland. Though more importantly, I helped save the human race from the space bug epidemic of 2016 along with my sister and her friends. Speaking of my sister, she happens to be having a daughter with her husband at some point in the coming week. So I’m excited to be an uncle obviously. Her husband is a Republican though, so I’m hoping my niece will inherit the Healy family politics.”  
The crowd erupts in laughter, which helps lift Luke’s spirits a bit. “So, speaking of her husband, his name is Gareth, by the way, in case you weren’t aware. He and I don’t agree on much, politically speaking, but when it comes to my sister, Laurel, we basically just want her to be happy. Which I appreciate on his end. So, she’s pregnant with her first and probably only child, and she has no idea what is in store for her. Gareth is extremely excited because he’s from some tiny town in the middle of nowhere Indiana. According to Laurel, he thought six kids were a normal amount!”  
The crowd laughed again, and he continued. “So recently, there have been some events in the news that, like the last year, have been crazier than if the space bugs were still around. One of those events was Trump’s ridiculous idea to try to get this show banned from the air. Well, I knew then I just had to host. Can someone please just give the man a test on the Constitution? Or maybe just enroll him in a high school civics class?”  
At this moment the door behind Luke opened, and out walked newly minted recurring cast member, Alec Baldwin. Sure he’d guest starred, but after everything that’s occurred since 2016, it was easier just to add him to the full time payroll.  
“Excuse me, Senator Healy, what you are saying is very rude. And of course it’s on SNL, the worst show on NBC since I stopped hosting the Apprentice.”  
Luke faced the actor and countered his statement, doing his best to keep the nervous energy out of his voice. “Well, Mr. President, with all due respect, fuck you.” The crowd erupted into applause, while the monitors blocked it for the folks at home. Luke looked over at Alec, “So, you can go now, we don’t need you anymore.” The other man freezes with his mouth open and hand raised, the audience roaring with delight.  
Two actors enter the stage and drag off the protesting “president,” leaving Luke onstage alone. He claps his hands together, his confidence boosted by the successful skit. “Alright folks, we have a great show for you tonight-” he’s forced to pause as Leslie Jones marched out across the stage to thunderous applause and cheers.  
The actress stopped right in front of him, quieting the audience with a wave of her hand.  
“Luke Healy, how lovely to make your acquaintance. Listen, I think you should just cut to the chase and announce your campaign for 2020. We all know it’s why you’re here tonight!” She starts the statement looking at him, but ends it by staring out into the audience, who cheer wildly and shout their support of him. He sweeps his gaze out across the crowd, nodding and waving in thanks of their support, then turns back to Leslie. “Why, you think I should run in 2020?” The crowd roars again, half in laughter and half shouts of support. He’s openly mentioned possibly campaigning, so the banter is mostly for fun. And judging by how the audience responds, it’s going over well.  
“Listen Healy, if anyone has a chance in two years, it’d be you. The only face in politics that is more ubiquitous is Ronald McDonald. Oh wait, is he not in politics? Well, neither is President Trump, so you can see how I’d get confused.” The crowd roars, and it takes a good few seconds before Luke can speak again.  
“Careful Leslie, don’t give him any ideas. You know these outsiders can be stiff competition!” She laughs, and offers one final counter to his statement.  
“The only thing he’s got on you Healy are french fries. Buy a potato press and a deep frier and you’re as good as equals. On that note, I’m available as campaign manager if anyone needs me!” She waves at the audience and exits the stage, once again leaving Luke on his own.  
He continues more or less where he left off. “As I was saying, we have a great show for you tonight, Miley Cyrus and Lady Gaga are here to promote their new single, Resist! So stick around!”  
As the credits started rolling and the first set was rolled out, he walked off the stage towards hair and makeup. The first skit was pre-recorded, so he had time to change into his first character. He got to his chair, and checked his phone while the department head started to apply his wig.

Text from Republican-in-Law: It’s happening. Will keep you updated.

“Oh fantastic” Luke muttered. “I knew she would go into labor while I was hosting. Just my luck.” Just as he was about to respond, another text came through, this time from Laurel.

Text from Sister: i’m sure gareth already texted you even though i told him not to yet. if you dare leave snl for me, i’m going to kill you.

Text from Sister: just leave when you’re done I’m sure it’ll be awhile

Text from Sister: oh and i almost forgot say hello to kate for me please

He was about to respond when he heard his cue. Gritting his teeth in frustration, he walked back to the sound stage, trying not to panic over being away from his sister as he stepped into the first live sketch of the night.  
\---  
It was the night the entire family had been anticipating ever since Luke was confirmed to host Saturday Night Live. Laurel in particular was an avid fan of the show, especially since the presidential campaign of 2016. Nowadays, it was rare to find her somewhere other than in front of the TV most Saturday nights, usually with an enormous bowl of popcorn and a fuzzy blanket. In fact, Gareth was currently in the kitchen, preparing the crucial snack for his wife in preparation of their viewing together. Just as he was about to put the pot on the stove, he heard her shouts coming from their bedroom.  
“God-fucking-damnit! Fuck.”  
Abandoning his task, he raced towards the bedroom, terrified of what he would find. What he did find was Laurel standing by the dresser, the edge of the wood clenched in her hands. Racing over to her, he helped her steady herself by wrapping his arms around her shoulders and began questioning her.  
“Laurel? What’s going on?”  
In response, she pointed towards the foot of the bed where she had been sitting when he left her several minutes ago. There was an unmistakable wet spot, dark blue against the light shade of the duvet. Whipping back to her, he looked to her for conformation and she just nodded.  
“Oh god, okay then. Are you having contractions yet?” Perfectly timed, she winced and buckled over slightly, her knuckles white against the dresser.  
He could feel himself already getting panicky and took a deep breath to steady himself. “Okay then, guess that answers that question. C’mon, we’ve got to go.”  
\---  
After the first half of the sketches, Luke reappeared as himself to introduce the musical guests. Following that, he bolted backstage to check his phone. Discovering new notifications from Laurel, he scrolled down to read it, trying to steady his shaking hands. 

Text from Sister: luke are you there?

Text from Sister: are you still hosting?

Text from Sister: because actually i’m freaking out now

Text from Sister: if i have to go through this alone and find you didn’t talk to kate mckinnon for me you will be very very sorry

Upon reading what she had sent him, Luke swore angrily and slammed his fist against the table. Grabbing his phone, he began frantically searching for the nearest exit, no longer aware of what was happening around him. All he cared about was that Laurel was actually, really in labor and he wasn’t there. All because she had told him everything would be just fine and something like this wouldn’t happen. He would never stop regretting not being there for his own daughter, there was no way he would miss his niece. As he beelined for the door, a stagehand ran up to him and grabbed his arm.  
“Mr. Healy? What’s going on?”  
He didn’t reply, simply yanking his arm away from her and continuing down the hall. She jumped back, startled, but responded again before he had a chance to get away.  
“Mr. Healy! I cannot let you leave!”  
This time he turned to face her. “My sister needs me at home. There’s nothing that could keep me away now.” He growled.  
“Mr. Healy, you are scheduled for the next skit beginning in two minutes. Can you wait another ten minutes? I’m sure you could arrange to leave then.”  
He was about to snap at her again, but at that moment the producer ran up to them.  
“Healy! What is this I hear about you leaving?!?!”  
“My sister needs me!” He practically shouted at them.  
“I understand. However, we just need you for the next skit. Then you can leave, I promise. Just ten more minutes Healy, then I can get you out of here. Okay?” She stared at him, arms crossed and looking as much an angry manager as Luke could envision.  
“.........Fine” Luke huffed out, turning away from the door. “But then I get to leave, okay?”  
“Okay” The woman retorted, holding out her arms. “Give me your things. I’ll hang on to them until you’re done.” He reluctantly handed over his phone and jacket and began trudging back towards the stage.  
\---  
About three minutes into the routine, he became aware of a commotion offstage. He peered over inconspicuously as possible to see what was going on. Suddenly, he caught the eye of the same stagehand who stopped him from leaving. She was arguing with the stage manager, motioning to him as she spoke. Trying not to make it obvious, he inched towards the edge of the set, desperate to hear what they were saying. Finally, a few more inches and he could hear them.  
“I need him off stage now. I need to speak with him.”  
“I don’t think that’s entirely possible unless you can improv a way to get him out.” The manager was saying, shrugging as if to prove his point. Suddenly, the producer entered the wing and began frantically beckoning him off the stage. Abandoning his post, he broke character and darted offstage just as he hears “Cut to commercial, get Luke off the stage” in his headset. Yanking it off, he runs up to the producer who shoves his things into his arms.  
“You’ve been flooded with calls and messages since you went on. I saw one of the messages from your wife, I think there’s a problem with your sister. If you need to go, go.” He abruptly nods his thanks, yanking his jacket on and his wig off as he began running towards the door and down the hall in desperate search of an elevator and taxi to the airport.  
\---

“I’m not kidding this time Gareth, I actually WILL kill you if you come any closer.”  
They were at the hospital safely in a private room, and Laurel was already changed into a gown and lying on the bed. She had mostly been answering the doctor’s questions for the past 15 minutes since they had arrived, and her mood was getting increasingly sour as the minutes dragged on. She had already threatened to kill Gareth three times, which worried him slightly as the doctor had warned her the pain would get much worse before it got better. He hovered near her head, trying to hold back his comments or avoid doing anything that might set her off again. Thankfully, Germaine took this moment to enter the room.  
“Hi Laurel, how’s it going?” Germaine questioned, stepping up to the bed and gently giving her sister-in-law a light hug around the shoulders.  
“It’s going…” Laurel grumbled, returning the hug. “It already hurts.”  
Germaine smiled slightly and sat on the side of the bed. “I know hon, I remember it well. It’ll be over soon though.”  
“Soon isn’t good enough.” Laurel muttered, grabbing Germaine’s hand and whimpering as another wave of pain came over her. Germaine patiently rubbed Laurel’s arm and spoke to her soothingly. Gareth, feeling rather neglected, stepped away from the bed in silence, glad she wasn’t yelling at him but unsure of how he could actually help. Germaine seemed to pick up on this and looked up at him from her position next to Laurel.  
“Gareth, why don’t you go ask the nurse for some ice chips? Laurel’s going to want some pretty soon.”  
Though he didn’t particularly want to leave his wife’s side, he had nothing better to do and wanted more than anything to help her in any way her could. Nodding, he slipped out of the room and started down the hall in search of a nurse.  
\---  
Gareth had been gone about 10 minutes when he finally headed back towards the hospital room. Noticing a commotion by the door, he sped up and pushed past the crowd in the doorway. Entering the room, Germaine rushed up to him and grabbed his arm.  
“What’s going on?” He asked, panicked.  
“While you were gone, she started complaining that her head was hurting and then she just started shaking. The doctor thinks she had a seizure.”  
“A SEIZURE?!?!” Gareth yelped, unable to keep his voice down.  
“It sure looked like a seizure to me.” Germaine said, trying to keep her voice calming, though the worry was obvious in her tone. “I’m going to call Luke” She said, touching his shoulder briefly. He nodded, unable to form coherent words, and she slipped out the door after one last look at Laurel.  
Gareth stared at Laurel on the bed, seemingly unconscious. The doctors were briskly hooking her up to various machines and calling orders to each other that he didn’t understand. Suddenly, without any warning, her entire body began shaking as though she was being electrocuted. Gareth raced over to her side, but was blocked by a nurse.  
“We have to take her to the OR.” The nurse told him, still obstructing his path. “She needs to have a C-section if we’re going to save her or the baby.”  
At that, Gareth lost it. He froze, rooted to the spot, and promptly vomited onto the floor. The nurse calmly held his shoulders and steadied him until he was finished and could look up at her. “Let’s get you to the OR, okay? You can stay with her while she has surgery.” Nodding mutely, he followed her down the hall and into the operating room. Laurel was already draped and ready for surgery when he arrived, and he put on the cap, mask and gown handed to him while watching the operating team get ready. He stood behind them, struggling to watch them complete the procedure but at the same time unable to tear his eyes off Laurel. Feeling sick to his stomach at the sight of his wife’s blood everywhere, he turned away, willing himself not to collapse or vomit again. Suddenly, he heard the sound of a baby crying. Whipping his head around, he caught a glimpse of the doctor holding a slimey, wailing newborn. Just as he began to rush over to the doctor’s side, the nurse who was standing next to Laurel’s head let out a shout of alarm. Laurel was shaking again, this time more violently than before. Her head was arched back sharply, her face obscured by the oxygen mask strapped to her face. Her arms, previously limp, were now flailing wildly at her sides. The jerking of her body was made all the more dramatic now that she had a wide open incision across her abdomen. Feeling himself fall back, Gareth regained his footing and was just about to grab her arm when the same nurse who brought him into the room grabbed him by the shoulders and forcefully led him out of the room, despite his shouted protests. The woman closed the door and was about to say something into her pager when a thought sprung to his mind. Rounding on her, he made his request in the calmest voice he could manage.  
“Give her to me.”  
“Excuse me?” The woman pocketed her pager and drew herself up to face him, a mixture of annoyance and disbelief on her face.  
He looked her squarely in the eyes and repeated himself, sounding more clear and confident than he felt inside. “I said, give me my daughter”  
The nurse now just looked at him wearily. “I’m sorry Mr. Ritter, but I cannot allow that. Hospital policy states-“  
“Give. Me. My. Daughter. NOW.” He shouted, stepping forward into her space. “Or I swear if you don’t, I’ll have half the United States government in this building in thirty minutes flat. Are we clear?”  
The nurse almost visibly cowered at his sudden outrage, so different from his demeanor when he came in with Laurel. Nodding compliantly, she hurried down the hallway and disappeared around the corner. Now left alone, Gareth paced nervously across the floor in front of the locked door, too shaken to be coherent of his surroundings.  
After what seemed like an eternity, the nurse returned with what seemed to be a doctor and another nurse. The nurse was holding his daughter, and he lunged forward, only to have the doctor step between them, effectively blocking his path. He was about to yell again when she spoke, calmly and seriously.  
“Are you Gareth Ritter?”  
“Yes” he managed to respond, bouncing up and down on his heels to displace some of the mounting anxiety he couldn’t shake.  
“I’m Doctor Clarke, the head of the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. I have your daughter here with me. I’ve looked her over myself and have determined that she is okay to leave the NICU. As I’m sure Annabelle informed you, this goes against hospital policy and would only be allowed in extraordinarily atypical circumstances.” He was about to respond when she continued, clearly having no intention of holding a discussion with him.  
“However, I’m willing to consider this an atypical circumstance. Connor here will give you your daughter, and you may hold her in this hallway and waiting area ONLY. Connor will be present to ensure you comply with these rules. Any exceptions and he will sound an alarm and the hospital will consider your daughter abducted. She will be taken and not returned until you are questioned and released. When it is time to return her, you will give her to Connor and he will take her back to the NICU. Are we understood?”  
She stared him down over the rims of her purple glasses, calmly awaiting his response. He barely thought about it before nodding rapidly, and Dr. Clarke neatly stepped aside to allow him to remove her from the young man’s arms. He hesitated for a second, realizing he hadn’t actually held his own daughter yet in all the commotion. Balling up all the courage he could muster, he carefully lifted the newborn, carefully supporting his head and nestling her in his arms. The nurse, apparently now confident the new father could appropriately handle a child, stepped back against the wall and effectively melted out of Gareth’s mind as he turned his attention to his daughter. She was a lot tinier than he initially noticed, or maybe she just seemed tiny alone in his arms in the empty hallway. He couldn’t quite seem to really believe he was holding his daughter.  
Suddenly, a much scarier thought flooded his brain. What if something happened to Laurel and it was just him and his daughter from here on? What if he had to raise her alone? Could he do it? And what would he tell her when she asked where her mommy was? Would he be able to look her in the eyes and tell he it was his fault? That he was the one who begged for her to be born? What a paradox. Without him she would not exist, but she might also have a mother who loved her. Unable to control himself, he began heaving ugly sobs that echoed throughout the wing.  
Suddenly, commotion at the end of the hallway jerked him from his emotion. He looked up to see Rochelle tearing down the hallway towards him, with Gustav and Dexter hot on her heels. Despite the late hour and the fact that they all looked haphazardly dressed, their faces betrayed the intense concern they were feeling along with him.  
“We got your voicemails, what’s wrong?” Rochelle said, practically lunging at him.  
“There was a compl-” Gareth began, but was quickly cut off by Rochelle.  
“Dexter and I both work in this business, tell us what the condition is.”  
“I-I can’t- I don’t-” Gareth stuttered, the situation catching up with him again. Rochelle looked to the nurse, whom she chatted with during staff meetings at the hospital. “Connor, what is it?”  
“Eclampsia. The seizures started not long after they arrived, and we had to rush her in for an emergency cesarean.” Rochelle took a deep breath, but it was caught in her throat. Oh god. That was bad. She wracked her brain, trying to recall all the previous cases she had seen and how they’d ended. She had just decided to keep her mouth shut when the door to the stairwell crashed open. Luke Healy emerged, looking as though he might kill a man with his bare hands, followed by Germaine, who was bleary-eyed from already having been at the hospital for several hours with Gareth. Dexter and Gustav knew well enough to stand back, leaving Gareth and Rochelle to deal with the panicked senator.  
“What in the name of christ is happening to my sister?!?!” he practically shouted at them. Gareth still looked like a paranoid child clinging to a doll, so Rochelle steeled herself and faced her friend’s brother.  
“Luke, according to the nurse Laurel has eclampsia.” She raised her hand to cut off his next question before continuing. “Eclampsia is seizures during birth, usually associated with abnormally high blood pressure. I don’t know any more than that, I’m sorry.” Luke turned away from her, looking like he was about to bash in the wall, but stopped when he caught sight of what Gareth was holding. Peering into his arms, he pointed to the infant and raised his eyebrows questioningly. Rochelle shrugged, not knowing anything except that she assumed that was their daughter from the way Gareth was acting. She nudged Gareth gently, who finally acknowledged Luke by nodding in response to his question. Motioning towards the infant, he asked the question he thought he would be asking under much happier circumstances.  
“Can I hold her?” Gareth froze, staring at the other man and not moving a muscle. He finally looked back down at his daughter as though nothing had happened. Frustrated, Luke looked like he wanted to ask again, or possibly demand that he hand the child over, but he reconsidered, instead laying his hand comfortingly on Gareth’s shoulder. The two men stood with their heads bowed, Rochelle beside them, Germaine leaning on Luke’s shoulder, Gustav and Dexter steps away. It was there they stood for what felt like hours until the door opened.  
\---  
Later that night, the entire family sat scattered around the hospital room technically only Laurel, Gareth, and their daughter occupied.  
Despite being moved to the largest room possible, the unique clan still managed to fill nearly every seating surface available. Gareth sat touching Laurel in the hospital bed in the center of the room, cradling the infant in his arms. He hadn’t left her side since they were allowed back in the room. Luke had claimed one of the two chairs to the right of the bed, and was leaning over the arm of his seat so that he was as close to the bed as possible. Germaine occupied the other chair, a worn-out Grace asleep in her lap. Liz sat on the narrow bench under the window, which had sort of become her “place” in the commotion of the day. Sitting on the bed technically belonging to Gareth were Dexter and Gustav, the latter of whom was playing a game on Dexter’s phone. Rochelle perched on the end of the bed closest to Liz, and was alternating between chatting with the other woman and wondering out loud whether particular staff members she knew would be working shifts around now.  
Laurel, having slept off most of her ordeal, was now sitting up in the bed watching the tv along with everyone else. Although she was rather quiet and her hair was a mess (something Luke had gently teased her about when she came to), she was more or less back to her old self. Every major news station covering the events of the night prior. Sure, the media had loved stories on the Healy-Ritter clan since the bug incident, but this was the one that had involved the most danger since brain-eating space bugs infested Washington. So that was saying a lot.  
“Healy Rushing Out of SNL Alerts to Trouble at Home” was plastered under Claudia Monarch’s face as she began her coverage.  
“Last night was supposed to be just your average, everyday episode of NBC’s hit comedy show, Saturday Night Live. Senator Luke Healy, mostly known for his involvement in the take down of the space bug epidemic of 2016 and forming what is now known as the ‘Democratic Dream Team’, hosted, that is until he left the show mid performance. This marks him as the first host to ever do so in the show’s 43 year running time. This unexpected exit was due to Healy catching wind from a stagehand on the show that his sister, Laurel, was having labor complications…”  
“How did they get wind of that?” Luke grumbled, muting the tv and shaking his head.  
“Well dear, from the sources I’ve heard you weren’t exactly subtle about it” Germaine ribbed, shifting their daughter on her lap. “And you know Saturday Night Live isn’t really known for encouraging subtle.”  
Luke grunted noncommittally and flipped the tv back on, scrolling until he reached the other major source of news in the district. The conservative new station was just as abuzz with the rumors. However, Misty Alise was talking with the headline “Democratic Senator Leaves Prior Commitment to Help Republican Brother-in-Law”  
“I mean, that’s not technically wrong either...” Rochelle pointed out, smacking what appeared to be the controller to Laurel’s hospital bed out of Gustav’s hand.  
“I know, but can’t they just agree on the same story for once?” Luke bemoaned.  
“Especially when it’s as serious as this.” Gareth said, reaching out for Laurel’s hand. Laurel rolled her eyes, but didn’t pull her hand away.  
“It wasn’t that serious.” Laurel said, to which everyone in the room just looked at her blankly and shook their heads. Of course she’d play it off as nothing.  
“Yeah, well, you didn’t see yourself seizing.” Germaine remarked lightly. “It looked a little different from our end.” Laurel just shook her head and looked over at Gareth, who was still holding their daughter.  
“Do you want to hold her?” He questioned. Laurel hesitated, and then nodded slowly. Gareth gently handed the baby girl to her mother, helping her adjust the infant in her arms. “She’s got your eyes.”  
Laurel snorted softly and retaliated, “How’d I know you’d say some shitty, sentimental line.” Gareth faked gasped, and leaned forward to cover the newborn’s ears.  
“Language, please. I don’t want my daughter to swear like a sailor.” Luke, acting on behalf of his fatigued sister, smacked the Republican on the arm. Gustav, who finally put his attention back onto the rest of the family and off his husband’s phone, decided to ask the question of the hour.  
“So, what are you going to name her?”  
Laurel looked up from her daughter to her husband. “Yeah Gareth, what are we going to name her?” Her tone was light and teasing, but when she looked him directly in the eyes, and with her tangled, sweaty hair and exhaustion lines creeping towards her eyes, he didn’t think he had ever seen anyone so beautiful.  
Gareth had had plenty of time to think about this over the past day. For some reason, it had felt important to him to come up with something to call her besides “baby” when he had been holding her all that time Laurel was in trouble. So he had used the first name that came to mind that he actually liked.  
“Charlotte.” He replied. “I’ve been calling her Charlotte. It was my great-grandmother’s name, and it’s Cathy’s middle name. I just thought it fit her.”  
Laurel nodded willingly, trying the name for herself out loud.  
“Charlotte” she repeated slowly, letting the syllables fall from her lips.  
“Do you like it?” He questioned hopefully.  
“I could get used to it” Laurel replied, gazing down at their daughter. “Hi Charlotte. Do you like that? Charlotte?” It was the first time Gareth had seen her talk to the infant, and for some reason it made him want to cry.  
Luke nodded. “Charlotte sounds pretty. Good choice.”  
“Luke!” Germaine scolded. “It’s not your decision!”  
“Hey! Laurel cares what I think, don’t you Laurel?”  
Laurel laughed quietly. “I care what both of you think, believe it or not.”  
“I’m just glad you’re okay sis. I was really worried there. Don’t do that again, okay?”  
Gareth patted the back of Luke’s hand. “Don’t worry Luke, I’m going to take good care of my girls.”  
Laurel shook her head. “What is this, the 1920s? Where the men in the family debate the women’s worth?” Germaine and Rochelle nodded in agreement and Germaine piped up from next to Luke.  
“Laurel, sexism aside, you should know that I have never seen these two get along so well. Seems like political differences only go so far when family is on the line.” She nudged Luke, who draped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “We’re all glad you’re okay. And we’re all looking forward to rewatching that sketch where Luke was trying to sneak off the set in a panic dressed as Marla Maples, aren’t we?”  
Luke groaned as everyone else burst into laughter.  
“Only in this family.” Laurel muttered. “Only in this family.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was done as a collaboration between Abby and Winona, with some assistance from Jill (Jillhayes on AO3). SNL plot and original fic creation was Abby's idea, Laurel's labor complications and character of Charlotte were conceptualized by Winona, and Jill helped develop the SNL plot line and happenings on the show. And now we never want to look at this damned storyline again. Until next time! 
> 
> ~ Winona


End file.
